


Fight It Out

by Vinnocent



Series: Wolfstuck [3]
Category: Homestuck, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Alternate Universe - No Sburb/Sgrub Sessions, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Anxiety, Blood and Gore, Exes, Hacking, M/M, Morning Wood, Nightmares, Panic Attacks, Suspicions, Teen Romance, Wolfsbane Poisoning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2016-02-16
Packaged: 2018-05-20 07:22:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5996713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vinnocent/pseuds/Vinnocent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which a recently bitten werewolf attempts to ask out his crush without showing his animal side but somehow ends up roped into a group thing, his relatives desperately try to solve crime with computers, and werewolf hunters continue trying to kill him. Contains murder dreams, suspicious behaviors of mentors, and foot sniffing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

> **Cult meets grisly end in suburban massacre**
> 
> Lorena Maddock likes to get up with the sun to walk her dog before starting her day. She loves the peace of the early morning, she says. Little did she expect the sight that beheld her just this morning as she rounded the corner where the Speakers House sat with its doors wide open, a dead body lying out on the front step, its arm reaching out toward her, slashed to death with its tongue torn out.
> 
> Maddock said the sight made her immediately sick and that she will never forget it and that it took her some time to pull herself together and call the police.
> 
> Moments later, the block was swarming with police. What they found inside was a massacre. Someone, over the course of the night, had infiltrated the house and murdered every single resident. Some were slashed to death. Some had their spines broken. Others were beaten with blunt objects. But all had had their tongues removed in a very obvious declaration: Speakers would not be allowed to speak their so-called truth anymore.
> 
> The group has been controversial since its inception only a few years ago. Leader Benoni Vantas had begun his strange stories in childhood, eventually prompting his caretaker, Ms. Dolores Maryam, to remove him from school. But the stories continued. He often went out of his way to find people to believe him and, eventually, Maryam believed him too. By his late teens, he had gathered three other devoted followers, all of whom he has been seen displaying affection with: self-proclaimed magician and healer, Onesiphoros Nitram; the reclusive runaway Katherine Leijon; and embattled hacker Astrophel Captor. As Vantas grew, so did his stories, and so did his following. Despite his outlandish supernatural claims, more and more gathered in audience. Eventually, others took up residence in what became known as the Speakers House to help disseminate information, keep vigilance, and make sure those with their own stories to tell would always have an audience ready at any time of day or night.
> 
> Concern was obvious, but Sheriff Johansen stuck by the claim that the Speakers were not a religious organization, no one was kept against their will, and that there was no evidence of ritual abuse. Still, it seems the group finally reached the peak of their controversy, motivating someone to slaughter over a dozen people last night. Identities still have not been confirmed, but some witnesses claim to have seen Nitram’s body removed from the scene by the medical examiner’s team in two halves. Others claim to have seen youths hanging from the balcony by their necks.
> 
> There are no answers as to whether the ten children of the five Speaker leaders were victims of the attack. Sheriff Johansen could not be reached for comment and has not been seen since last night.

* * *

Karkat Vantas is a good kisser if you can shut him up long enough. You’re working very hard at that.

When you make the mistake of coming up for air, he promptly starts growling, “If you genuinely think this constitutes a proper defense－” The rest of his words are smushed into murmurs when you kiss him again. One hand goes up his shirt. The other holds fast to the hilt of your sword.

His sickles clatter to the ground, and he wraps his arms over your shoulders and gasps against your lips, and it is quite possibly the best thing ever. You pull at him with the one hand on his hip, but it’s not enough.

“Let go of it, asshole,” he groans. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Don’t you know?” you ask with a smirk, but you let go of your sword.

And then you tear his throat out with your teeth.

* * *

You wake with the urgent need to brush your teeth _forever_. And then you startle because Dirk is standing RIGHT FUCKING THERE BY YOUR BED. WTF. Oh hey, it’s his foot in your shoulder that woke you up. You really need to get that door put back. “Okay, stop kicking me!” you snap, shoving weakly at his foot. You might still be half-asleep. “I’m awake! Jesus!”

Dirk puts his foot back on the floor, but he’s standing at a weird angle now. The sparkling lights of his Augmented Reality shades make his face stand out eerily in the darkness of the room. “Time to get up, Princess,” he tells you. “Time to strife.”

You glance at the phone propped up on your nightstand, groan, and flop over. “Dirk, it is the ass-crack of dawn!” you object. “And why are you standing like that?”

“Is not,” he tells you. “It’s still dark outside.”

“Oh my gog.”

“Also I was standing like this to keep my field of vision away from your morning wood.”

“Oh my god shut up!”

“BOTH OF YOU SHUT THE FUCK UP, OR I WILL SHOOT YOU BOTH AND FINALLY HAVE SOME GODDAMN QUIET IN THIS PLACE!” Bro shouts from his own room.

Dirk snickers and retreats. From the door he tells you, “You have five minutes to beautify. After that, I’m dragging you to the roof in front of your sister no matter what your pants are up to.”

You throw a pillow after him, but he’s already gone.

Three minutes later, you’ve tossed on a pair of black jeans that could probably use washing and a shirt that you _think_ is blue (but it might be pink?) and that one pair of sneakers that doesn’t have laces because screw tying things this early, and you’re making your way up to the roof where Dirk is indeed standing with Rose and Jade as the sun just begins to color the horizon. Rose is actually dressed down in shorts, a loose t-shirt, and a wide headband that holds her fringe out of her face, actually prepared for a real workout this time. She picks up Dirk’s shades from where he’d just sat them down, puts them on as she turns to you, crosses her arms, and nods to you with stony expression. “’Sup?” she says.

Jade absolutely fucking loses it, and you can’t help smirking so hard your face hurts. 5 am strifing practice after a shitty nightmare is suddenly not so bad.

With a pinched expression, Dirk plucks the shades off her face and puts them back on the AC unit he’s using as a table, right alongside two sets of keys, three cellphones, a tablet, three katana (in case of breakage, which they somehow never do when Dirk uses them), and Rose’s misericorde. Shit, is this practice or is she gonna murder you? Nah, wait, she has her two stilettos in hand, so the misericorde is just here because it’s part of her set. “Sword,” Dirk says holding out his hand.

You look down at the broadsword in your hand. You look at him. “What about it?”

“Oh, um, it’s just here for, like, um, maybe later?” says Jade. “You’re supposed to be without weapons in this strife.”

You look at the sword again, and your stomach churns. “I don’t think…”

“Good, you’re not supposed to,” Dirk says, and he grabs each side of the guard and yanks it out of your hand while you’re still wavering, and you only barely manage not to stumble onto your ass.

“HEY!”

“Dirk, that’s not okay!” Jade chides.

He just tsks at her and drops your sword unceremoniously onto the AC unit. “A sword is not a comfort item,” he snarls. He grabs up one of his katana and turns to you. “You won’t always have it with you. You need to be capable of defending yourself without it, now more than ever. So _suck it up_.”

“Okay!” Jade interrupts, hopping between the two of you. “How ‘bout we start this off by pairing Dave with Rose and me with Dirk?”

You blink at her. “I thought they were supposed to double-team me?” you ask.

Dirk makes a strangled-sounding snort, and Rose says, “Um, Dave…”

“Yeah yeah, Freud, cocks, incest. I’ve heard it before,” you tell her. “It’s ass o’clock in the morning, give me a break.”

“Yes, well,” Jade says from behind her hand as she tries to muffle her giggles. “Strifing angry is a sure way to get someone hurt, which is not our actual goal. Now, pair off! Come on!”

You sigh and follow Rose off to the side, giving Jade and Dirk room as Jade starts explaining, “Okay, so what McCall told you was basically correct. A primary biological trigger for the shift is heart rate! But it’s also emotion! Once you get used to things, it’ll be easier and easier to be emotional or get your heart rate up without worrying about changing, but when you’re new to it, you’re operating on a purely instinctual basis.

“So while I fight Dirk as a werewolf, to prepare him for fighting supernatural creatures, Rose is going to fight you to prepare you for staying human even in scary situations! You’ll try to keep human even as you defend yourself. If you shift, you’ll try to shift back even as you continue to fight her. If you grab for your sword, that’s a cue for us to all back off. You can also ask for it for the same effect. Or just ask to stop! And we’ll all be keeping an eye on you; if you lose control you’ll be tranquilized again.”

So that’s why you’re doing it at ass o’clock in the morning. If you’re tranqued, you may be operational again in time to get to school on time. Or close to it anyway. “Alright, I－ WHOA!”

Rose comes at you with a very telegraphed swing of her right dagger, and you still only barely manage to dodge it. You totally hear that noise of frustrated disapproval Dirk just made. She starts to slash again, but stops and raises an eyebrow at you. You look down at your hairy, clawed hands. “Awe, man,” you grumble.

She snickers. “Alright, first attempt,” she says. “Go ahead and see if you can switch it back on your own.”

You sigh, close your eyes, and concentrate on your breath. But it’s not until you imagine holding your sword that you feel the itch of the receding shift. Okay, this is going to take a lot of work, apparently.

Predictably, the second you open your eyes, she takes another swing. Even heartbeat. Measured breath. Come at me, sis.

You duck smoothly to the side and grab her wrist when she jabs at your face. Again, she was going just slightly too slow in order to be sure that she’d miss. You try to punch her in the elbow so she’ll drop the knife, but she bends it out of the way and continues using the momentum to wrap you up in her arms like a hug or maybe a dance spin and slit you across the left ribs with her other knife. If she were an enemy, she could’ve stabbed you a lot deeper.

You hiss in pain and release her to back up a few steps. You don’t need her hesitation to tell you that you’ve shifted wolf again. “Keep coming,” you snarl. Her eyes flick toward Jade only a second, then she comes at you, no longer slowing it down or taking wider swings than necessary in order to telegraph her moves. She knows your abilities have improved with the shift, and she improves in opposition to them. Her moves go narrow and fast, coming in with shallow pricks and slashes and swirling away before you can catch her. She fights like a ballerina. You, meanwhile, have turned into a lumbering oaf, pulling back so hard on the instinct to tear into her soft belly that you can barely keep your feet under you, much less concentrate on shifting back.

When she backs you up to the AC unit, you don’t have to even think about it. You grab your sword and clutch it to your chest like it’s the last boat off the Titanic. Okay, that metaphor makes no sense.

She backs off immediately, waiting patiently.

“OW! SHIT, HARLEY!” Dirk cries, and his katana clatters to the ground as Jade hops back off him, her eyes glowing bright, bright yellow. She cocks her head curiously like she doesn’t understand the problem while Dirk clutches at his bloody arm.

“What happened?” you ask, not yet moving from your spot.

“She fucking _bit_ me!” Dirk hisses.

“Oh, I forgot!” Jade says, suddenly human again. Show off. “No, only alphas can make you a werewolf! It’s fine! I’m just a beta! I can’t infect you!”

“You still have _saliva_!” Dirk snaps. He lifts his hand briefly to check the wound. “And incisors like knives. Jesus, I’m kind of impressed.”

“Pft, you’ll heal soon,” she says. It takes a few seconds of everyone staring at her before she realizes. “OH SHIT! OH MY GOSH, DIRK! I FORGOT! I’M USED TO FIGHTING JAKE! OH MY GOSH, ARE YOU OKAY!!!!!”

He grunts and pokes at the wound again. “I won’t need stitches, but I’ve gotta go clean it up.” He holds his arm kind of carefully as he bends down and picks up his katana. He starts toward the AC unit, but Rose tells him to go on downstairs and that she’ll bring his stuff.

Jade just stands there wringing her hands as he passes, then nearly jumps as he taps her shoulder in reassurance before heading down the stairs. She looks to you, and you wave it off. “Trust me, we’ve accidentally hurt each other so much worse,” you tell her. “I’m talking broken bones. Why do you think we have a caseworker that visits every month?”

Jade smiles just a little, still unsure of herself. “You sure he won’t be mad at me?” she asks.

You actually laugh at that. “Are you kidding? He’s furious at _himself_. This is Dirk the perfectionistic freak we’re talking about here, and he dropped his katana. He’ll never let it go. This failure will haunt him to the grave. Don’t laugh like that! I’m serious! This is a _travesty_!”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As of this chapter, you'll start seeing Dave's chats not only with green-blind colors but also with changed fonts, as per the Pesterchum extension Jake gave him.

You see him coming up on your left as you pull your algebra books out of your locker, and you nod a greeting to him. “Hey, Karkat.” You’re not blushing. Blushing would be stupid. Striders don’t blush. And you are definitely not leaning too far into your locker just to keep him from noticing.

“Uh, hi,” he says, coming up along side you and fidgeting. “So, um, your offer to practice strifing… when was that?”

You stiffen. Fuck. Fuck shit. Why had that been the thing you asked? Of course you forgot that strifing was supposed to be the very thing that was being used to help you learn werewolf control. If you were to drop your sword while fighting him－

Visions of Karkat’s bloody, gaping throat fill your mind.

You slam your locker closed. “Bowling!” you exclaim before you’ve even got your thoughts sorted.

He’s staring at you. “Did you just have an aneurism?”

Haha, you wish. “Bowling… is a thing people do, right?” Words. How do they happen? You should probably look him in the face at some point.

He’s still staring at you. “Yes, it is a thing people do, Strider,” he says with great exasperation. “But somehow I’m failing to see how that’s on topic.”

“I… I think… maybe strifing was a bad idea? And if we want to hang out, then maybe－?”

“You think I can’t handle you?” he snarls. He’s crossed his arms over his chest and backed up a step. Oh god, that is the opposite of what you wanted.

“I think I vastly overestimated myself in an attempt to impress a cute boy.” NO. Wrong thing to say. Where the fuck is your filter?!!!

“You wh－?”

“So, yeah, I mean, bowling. Was just throwing that out there. I’m sure there’s plenty of－”

“BOWLING WOULD BE AMAZING!” a voice shrieks in your ear mere milliseconds before you’re tackled from behind. Oof. “Do you know Crabby Kitty hasn’t bowled since fourth grade?” Terezi taunts directly into your ear, and oh fuck that’s Terezi. Terezi fucking Pyrope. Pyrope the Werewolf Slayer is hanging off your back, no, get off get off get off

“That’s because you and Vriska wouldn’t stop cheating, so I gave up,” he counters. He glances to you. “The fuck is wrong with you?” he asks.

Terezi finally releases you and slaps you on the back as she comes around your side. “He’s just having a mild heart attack. Don’t mind him,” she says. “And I have never once cheated.” She’s already texting a mile a minute, with earbuds hanging out of one ear so that she can listen to her device read aloud what letters she’s typing without having her messages announced to her peers.

“She kept changing the numbers, and you were tallying the scores through an elaborate system of exponential multiplication,” Karkat charges.

Terezi laughs. “That’s just how the game is played, ’kat! Bowling is a game of both physical and mental prowess. Rolling the ball is the physical part, but it’s in score keeping that you show off your mental aptitude!” she exclaims.

“That isn’t remotely true.” Karkat gives you a sideways look. “Do you actually want to go bowling?” he asks.

You open your mouth to state that fuck no you do not want to go bowling, that was almost as bad of an idea as strifing and made worse by the self-invitation of Pyrope. Terezi doesn’t give you the chance, however. “Too late!” she exclaims. “He made the suggestion. I’m a witness. Also I’ve already invited Aradia, Nepeta, and Tavros. We’re all going on Friday, and no one is allowed to cancel. Anyway, Karkat has to take me class because the school says I’m not allowed to smack people with my cane when they get in the way anymore.” She shoves her phone back into her pocket and smacks you again before holding out her hand to Karkat.

He rolls his eyes and grumbles but takes it nonetheless to pull her through the crowd.

You find your words. “THAT WAS MY ASS, TEREZI!” you shout after them. You are answered with a distant cackle.

You are so fucked.

* * *

You’re headed to the cafeteria at noon when Dirk pulls you aside down a different hallway. “What the－ Hey, you graduated!” you object loudly.

“Shut up,” he hisses. “I gotta talk to you.”

“About what?”

He pulls you out the door at the end of the hall, coming out behind the school. A couple of smokers look up at the two of you quizzically, but he ignores them and pulls you far enough from them to prevent overhearing. “There’s more bodies,” he says.

“You couldn’t text this?” you ask.

“No, I wanna be here if you flip out, and also I don’t want to wait to talk to you about it, because there’s a chance you’ll overhear something in school,” he explains.

“Goddammit, Dirk, I’m not time bomb!” you object. You run a hand back through your hair, settling your nerves. “So someone else was killed last night?”

“No, this was the same time and place as Cronus,” he said. “He was quartered, but there were still pieces, especially the middle bits, scattered all over. So they just gathered everything and didn’t realize until Monday that they had too many bits. They ran DNA and re-combed the forest for more parts.”

“Jesus.” Whoever your alpha is, they’re worse than you thought. “Any results yet?”

Dirk shakes his head. “DNA testing takes a while,” he said. “But preliminary results say there are two sample groups so far. Of group one is the majority of samples, which seem to match the one taken from Cronus’s head. Of group two is the non-Cronus samples that, despite being probably-not-Cronus-but-we’ll-double-check-it, seem to be _similar_ to Cronus.”

You’re surprised by that. “What, like related?” you ask.

He shrugs. “Uncertain at this point, but that’s the current guess.”

Your mind is whirring but running nowhere. “I don’t… But… It can’t be Eridan, so… Who else is there?”

Dirk shrugs again. “It’s possible there are Amporas we don’t know about, since some of the Peixes were off-record until they bit it. Hell, maybe it’s another Peixes,” he says. “But according to Bro’s chatlogs, he thinks it’s Dualscar.”

“Dualscar?” you repeat, incredulous. “That douche ollied out years back.”

Dirk shrugs yet again. “I dunno. I can’t hack up the discussions he has on official channels, and Roxy’s not feeling up to it, by which I mean she threatened to remove my dick when I asked.”

“Yeah, she’s vicious when she’s sick,” you remind him. You glance back toward the door. “I’ll tell the others I guess, but I’m not sure what this means besides that I have deadly and murderous alpha.”

“Yeah, me either.”

* * *

When you finally get home, you’re surprised to find that not only is the front door open because Dirk is doing something to it, but Bro and Deputy Renaud are in the kitchen hovering over Roxy’s shoulders as she works at her laptop－ Oop, no, that’s a whole fucking computer, three CPU towers strung up together under the table legs and two screens sitting on top of the computer. There’s also a scary-looking rifle slung over Renaud’s shoulder that you’re pretty sure isn’t police issue.

“Uh, hi?” you say.

“There’s absolutely no－ Hi, Dave!” Roxy greets, waving in your general direction without removing her attention from the screens, and Bro grunts and nods at you. Renaud ignores you entirely. “－ record anywhere! Their mother’s name and social security number is stolen from a dead woman, the fathers’ names are all left blank, and none of them were born in a hospital.”

“Then who owns the damn house?” Bro demands.

“Uuuum… gimme a sec…” Roxy starts clicking around, frowning at her screens while she rests her chin on her hand.

You move over to Dirk and whisper, “What’s going on?”

“Security measures,” he grunts around the screws held between his teeth.

It takes you a second to realize he means the keypad he’s installing on the door. “No, not that. Although, yes, I have questions. I mean Roxy doing cop work.”

Dirk spares a glance in Roxy’s direction then returns to his work. “Technically, she’s not. Bro’s hedging his bets on being able to find evidence after the fact that explains his actions instead of ‘I got my baby momma’s sister to illegally hack into state and corporate records because I’m fucking desperate for a lead’.”

“I heard that,” Bro snarls.

“Crocker Corp?” says Roxy. She keeps clicking. “Hold on, let me chase this trail a little.”

“Okay…” you say, returning your attention to Dirk. “And what’s this about security measures? We’ve never been broken into.”

“It’s to keep you from breaking out,” says Dirk. He taps the keypad. “Bro, Roxy, and I will have the code to this, but you won’t, making extra sure you shouldn’t be able to undo it in your sleep. There’s also bars on your window now.”

“But you’re not putting my door back?” you demand.

“It didn’t keep you in last time,” he reminds you.

“That’s besides the point!”

“Hey, guess who has a massive headache!” Roxy chirps with fake enthusiasm.

You wait to see if she actually expects an answer. When she turns to you, you say, “... You?”

She smiles widely without an ounce of actual joy. “So guess who should shut the fuck up and go work on his homework quietly?” she asks.

“Me?”

“Ding!” Almost on cue, something on her computer actually dings back at her, and she turns back to her work. “Amporas are same,” she says. “Only dad is recorded, and it’s a pseudonym, although one already on record belonging to Dualscar.”

“Uh, unless he shoved them out of his vagina － which, no judgements, but that kind of busts our ‘same family’ theory － how is it possible to not have the mom on the birth certificate?” asks Bro.

“It really shouldn’t be,” says Roxy. “But if they were born outside of a hospital, which they were, and the mom isn’t locatable, there’s basically nothing that can be done about it. There’s only Cronus and Eridan attached to this pseud, but I’ll try tracing his others because I dunno about you, but I have a vague memory of other Amporas being a thing that existed?”

When Renaud moves his gun aside to lean his back against the countertop, you decide to head back to your room under the pretense of starting on your homework. Even without werewolf hearing, you could probably hear the conversation from your room. Especially with the door absent.

You drop your backpack at the foot of the bed and collapse back onto your bed. You bring up Pesterchum on your phone and stare at your chumroll for a minute, not really sure who you want to poke at.

“Okay yeah, there are two other sons, but both are missing. No murders. No attacks. No drownings. They just existed one day, and didn’t the next. Were never reported, either.”

“They could’ve just followed in their dad’s footsteps,” Bro suggests.

“Yeah, except their dad isn’t that good,” says Roxy. “I can trace him, but I can’t trace them. Not easily anyway. I’m gonna run a wider search on them, see if I can catch anything.”

It’s probably a really stupid idea, but hey, what else is new for you?

\-- turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering cuttlefishCuller [CC] \--  
TG: hey

No, reply. Jade left you a link while you were in class, and you follow it now to a lunar calendar map, which you promptly install.

CC: Oh )(ey, Davey Jones!  
TG: yeah that nickname will never get old im super glad youve decided to call me that  
CC: LMAO  
CC: You left my party early! I thought you were mad at me?  
CC: (A little fishie told me that you set off the fire alarm?)  
TG: nah  
TG: well  
TG: hella uncomfortable yeah  
TG: not mad  
TG: also that fish is a lying liar who lies  
CC: Then why did you leave?  
TG: idk guess it was shark week for me too  
CC: Ahahahaha!  
CC: So why the pester, chum? 8D  
TG: right um  
TG: look you dont have to answer thats cool im not the police and were not even really friends  
TG: but you seem to maybe have friendly intentions even if they include embarrassing me  
CC: Awe, of course! But answer what?  
TG: um  
TG: questions regarding cronus and maya and everything that happened a week ago  
CC: O)(?  
CC: I don’t understand, Davey. Your dad has my shell number and has already interviewed me and Meenah. Why are you having to reach out on his beach-aft?  
TG: his what  
CC: *behalf  
TG: oh um im not  
TG: this is my own morbid curiosity  
TG: hence reminding you of your right to tell me to fuck off  
CC: O)(! I sea!  
CC: Ask ahoy!  
TG: okay um well first of all are you and eridan related  
CC: Yes, we are!  
CC: I know some people conch believe it, but we have the same mother and father! Cronus, too!  
CC: But they went to live with their dad when they were little 8)  
TG: okay but what about the other amporas  
CC: What other Amporas?  
CC: Saury, Davey, I just don’t pay much attention to that side of the family?  


“I can’t find a _person_ anywhere!” Roxy complains. “No person owns anything! It’s just Crocker Corp, subsidiaries of Crocker Corp, and shell companies that trace back to Crocker Corp!” She makes a noise of frustration, and Dirk offers to make her tea, by which you’re pretty sure he means he’s going to microwave some of your apple juice and call it fruit tea. You hear Bro walking back toward the hallway and angle yourself so he can’t see who you’re talking to if he decides to look in on you.

TG: okay what about your sisters  
TG: isnt it weird they all drowned  
CC: Is it?

You have no idea if she’s playing hard to get or is just that vapid. Bro stops just outside the hall and makes a call. It’s Jake that answers.

“Hullo?”

“Hey, Harley, you’re related to Crockers, right?”

Jake doesn’t answer.

TG: you know what  
TG: forget it  
TG: i shouldnt be sticking my nose in your business anyway  
CC: Awe, reelly?  
CC: I’d so hoped you were the smart one!  
\-- cuttlefishCuller [CC] ceased trolling turntechGodhead [TG] \--  
TG: wait what

“Harley! Answer!” Bro snaps.

“Er, sorry, yes. Um. Through my great grandmother.”

“So you’re not remotely connected to any Crockers anymore?”

“Not really. I mean, I talk to my cousin Jane sometimes.”

“Is she local?”

“Works at the hospital. Why?”

“Harley, whenever we try to get background on the Peixes family, we run into walls built by Crocker. I need…” Bro sighs heavily. “I need you to sit this one out.”

“Oh, um, that sounds reasonable.” He sounds distracted. “I have to go, sir. See you tomorrow at work.”

“Did you actually listen to－?” But Bro’s cut off by the dial tone.


	3. Chapter 3

That night, Jade meets you and Roxy on the roof. Dirk stays downstairs on account of his arm. Not because he wants to － he says he might as well learn how to fight while nursing a wound － but because the rest of you insisted. Rose is busy writing a paper twice as long as the teacher asked for with the most fucking esoteric sources she can find.

You only go twenty minutes this time, which is longer than you did this morning more because Roxy is _terrible_ at hand-to-hand (because she keeps erupting into giggles for some reason) than because you’re actually improving at controlling your heart rate. Even Jade has no idea how to fight as a non-werewolf, and she keeps getting distracted when she shifts.

“Uh, Jade?” you snap your fingers at her because she hasn’t actually thrown any punches in a while, instead merely dodging with an absent expression.

She snaps out of it. “Huh?” she says. “What is it, Dave?”

“Um, you keep zoning out,” you tell her. “Is it… Is it because Bro took Jake off the case?”

She blinks at you. “He did? Oh.” She shrugs. “Seems like a sound decision.” She smiles brightly, but none of her usual energy is there. “I must just be tired. Aha, sorry!”

* * *

The next morning, Dirk wakes you from another murder dream by throwing one of your tennis shoes at your face. When you tackle him in the hall, you almost knock over one of Roxy’s CPU towers. Holy shit, they’re replicating like rabbits.

Jade doesn’t show up for sparring on the roof, saying a family issue has come up and to just keep up with your lessons from yesterday. Your theory from last night is proven right when Rose has you scrambling for your sword after eight minutes. She and Dirk spar for another thirty before everyone goes downstairs, finding that not only has Bro tripped over two of the CPUs in the hall but has spilled his coffee on another one and is shouting at Roxy about it, but she refuses to move her eyes from the screens in front of her. (There’s three now.)

When asked why the hell her computer is growing like an infection, she mumbles something incomprehensible about “digitals,” and Bro makes her take a breathalyzer.

* * *

At school, Jade greets you again at lunch, but her energy has completely bottomed out. You find out from Rose that Vriska has been asking about you which would be creepy even without the werewolf hunter thing.

When John asks Jade what she thinks about it, it’s revealed that she’s fallen asleep sitting up. You all decide to let her have her rest until lunch is over and continue your conversations as quietly as possible.

* * *

At home, Bro is ranting to Dirk about Jake. Dirk has hooked his computer into Roxy’s network and isn’t listening at all. They’re both shooting back Red Bull and Monster like it’s the only thing keeping them alive. At this point it probably is. You reinstall your door your own damn self and can’t really shut it properly but at least it muffles the arguments.

Karkat pesters you to ask if you’re still coming Friday. You tell him you have nothing better to do because you’re an idiot like that. He doesn’t seem to take it any more personally than he takes literally everything else.

* * *

You don’t spar that night because it’s your turn to sit on the edge of the tub and hold Roxy’s hair while she vomits into the toilet. Overworking herself while still detoxing from alcohol was not the best plan if for no other reason than she doesn’t have much food in her stomach to actually throw up.

* * *

Friday morning, Jade doesn’t show up at all and doesn’t answer Pesterchum. At lunch, John says she and Jake are home sleeping off their exhaustion from last night.

“Uh, what?” you ask.

“Jade was helping Jake with his police work somehow?” John said. “They didn’t come back until like three in the morning!”

You scowl at that. “But Bro was ranting last night about how Jake bunked off work yesterday,” you tell him.

He just shrugs it off. “I guess he made it up to him?” he guesses. “It can’t be a big deal. You know how loyal Jake is.”

* * *

At around five, you poke your head back into the main room. “Hey, Rox, how are you feeling?” you ask.

She groans, leans back in her chair, and stretches like a cat. “Like my eyes are turning into raisins from staring at the computer so long,” she tells you. “Why?”

“You’re the only one who won’t lie to me about what I’m wearing,” you tell her, dropping your voice enough that maybe Dirk won’t hear.

“Hm?” She turns to look back at you. “Why are you changing?”

You run your hand through your hair restlessly. “I, uh, I tried to ask someone out, and somehow it became a group thing, and I have no idea what I’m supposed to do.” You might be bouncing slightly, trying to work off the nervous energy.

She looks you over, humming to herself. “What kind of group thing? And what kind of girl?”

You’re not blushing, that would be stupid. “Uh, bowling with five other people, and a Karkat kind of girl.”

“Karkat… Slick’s kid?” she asks. When you nod, she turns back to her computer, waving you off. “Then just wear jeans and a t-shirt and sneakers, but make sure they’re all in good condition and that the jeans show off your ass. You’re going to be doing a lot of bending. Might as well take advantage.”

You can hear Dirk laughing from his room.

Half an hour later, Aradia’s outside honking. You hurry downstairs, greet her with a little wave, and slide into the back seat. It’s then that you notice that not only is she (of course) giving Karkat a ride as well, but that he is in the front passenger seat.

Yep, he has _no_ idea that you were attempting to ask him out. Or worse, he was too polite to tell you no and is now trying to get this over with as platonically as possible. Maybe you can just sink into the plush leather of Aradia’s fancy as hell, fifty-year old car until it swallows you whole.

“GODDAMMIT, MEGIDO, SPEED LIMITS EXIST FOR A REASON!” Karkat is shouting almost as soon as you’re out on the road. “WE HAVEN’T COMMITTED A CRIME. THE HELL ARE YOU TRYING TO GET AWAY FROM?”

Aradia just laughs, tossing her head back and wiggling happily in her seat. You check the strength of your seat belt. “Oh, live a little, Karkat! It’s only 10 over!”

“DON’T BE SURPRISED IF KANKRI SENDS YOU A FRUIT BASKET, ARADIA, BECAUSE I’M PRETTY SURE YOU’LL BE REASON I FIND RELIGION!”

You laugh at that. Karkat turns in his seat to narrow his eyes suspiciously at you. Snrk. “What?” you ask.

“I didn’t know you had a sense of humor,” he tells you.

You just smirk back at him. “It’s a closely guarded secret,” you fake-confess. “Don’t tell anyone.”

He snorts. “And what’s going to stop me?”

“GASP! Are you trying to extort me, Mr. Mafiaman? Alright, then, name your price. I’ll give you anything you want.” When he looks back at you again, you accentuate the flirtatious tone by leaning forward and batting your lashes at him the way Roxy might do. He very suddenly burrows back in his seat, blushing furiously.

Aradia is cackling happily. “I told you it was a date!” she teases and punches him in the arm.

With a smirk of success, partly because you are no longer the most embarrassed party even if he is disinterested in you, you settle back in your seat and put on your most innocent of expressions. “Aradia, I have no idea what you mean,” you tell her, and she just laughs louder.

Fun fact: The louder Aradia laughs, the faster she drives. So of course you keep goading her on. Every time Karkat turns around to glare at you, bat your eyes again. You do seem to be successfully wearing him down at least. Though that might be a bad thing? Oh well, at least it’s funny.

Another fun fact: being the sheriff’s weird son who rarely socializes gives you an interesting perspective on your friends and classmates. For example, you know that Nepeta and her sister are charged with illegal hunting every week or two in the off-season, but Bro lets them go every time and pays the fee himself because they won’t have enough to eat otherwise. You also know that nothing ever came of Vriska pushing Tavros off a roof, except a three year gang war, because the Pyropes got her out of it, but shortly after that they changed their minds and there has been a constant torrent of legal battles ever since. But you have no idea what their favorite classes are or what they do outside of school or exactly how the non-crew kids became friends.

Terezi, it seems, has her own bowling shoes. She loudly proclaims that she will whoop everyone’s ass, and one of the employees immediately reminds her that this is a family establishment, watch the language. She apologizes profusely and equally loudly, and then switches to being loud and vulgar in Latin.

Too bad she wants to kill you, because you kind of want her to be your new bestie, sit up all night and braid each others hair, make John super jealous. Okay that one went somewhere weird.

The guy behind the rental counter shouts at you that your shoes aren’t appropriate. You point out that they’re sneakers, but he’s having none of it. Terezi insists that you must abide by the nasty-ass rules (or at least, that’s what Aradia tells you she’s saying), and Tavros points out that shoe rental is probably how they keep the lights on (says the guy with _wheels_ ). So, with a groan, you go up to the counter and shell out $20 for shoes that have seen more fungus than the Sheriff’s Department Evidence Room from a guy with a scorpion tattoo that shakes a bunch of blue powder into them before handing them over.

Ugh, you’re going to be coughing for the rest of your life. “Dude, what the hell?” you demand.

He shrugs. “Disinfectant,” he says. You’re pretty sure he just doesn’t like you. With a vicious glare, you grab the shoes and head back to the group.

As you sit down by Karkat and start taking off your sneakers, Terezi lifts her head and sniffs around. “Something smells weird,” she says.

“It’s probably me,” Nepeta says from the computer as she struggles to get the machine to respond when she types in peoples’ names. You are now DVE.

“No, not the weird animal junk. Something… floral?” she says.

You shove on the nasty rental shoes. “It’s probably the disinfectant junk the dude put in these. Who’s up first?”

“Well, uh, I think Nepeta is putting us in, um, alphabetical order?” Tavros tells his hands, currently folded in his lap. “So, uh, I guess, maybe Aradia can go first?”

“HA! Watch how it’s done!” Aradia boasts and flexes for you all before grabbing a ball at random off the shelf.

“Wait fur me to finish!” Nepeta cries. “I’ve almost growlt it!”

“Wow, Nepeta, that was a reach even for you,” Karkat teases her, and she fakes a feline hiss at him. Finally, she finishes with TRRZI, and Aradia steps up to the line and proceeds to somehow accidentally drop the ball directly in the gutter. The whole group bursts into laughter, and she takes an elegant bow.

She kicks your ankle in passing. “Beat that, jerkface.”

“Oh, you just wait,” you tell her. You grab another ball at random, which Nepeta promptly informs you is weighted for children. Perfect.

With far more effort than you’d like to admit to, you manage to throw it in such a way that it bounces once. An employee yells at you, and you pretend to be sorry for as long as they’re facing you. “Oh, it is on!” Aradia cries in faked anger.

Karkat, Nepeta, and Terezi, losers that they are, actually compete for the highest score. Tavros concentrates mostly on trying to get his ball to roll straight instead of twirling into the gutter. On his second attempt, the ball stops in the middle of the lane, and Terezi is called in to bowl another ball into it.

On your third turn, you manage to trip over your own feet and drop the ball into the gutter while falling on your ass. Aradia laughs, assuming you did it on purpose, but you hadn’t even decided what to do yet. Terezi’s immediately at your side, shoves your shades back onto your face from where they’d fallen askew, and helps you up. As soon as you’re on your feet, she hisses into your ear, “Nepeta said your eyes look weird. Get your shit together _now_.”

You sit in your seat with a thud. She’s all bright, razor-sharp smiles again, showing absolutely no sign that anything is off. If she knows… Did Vriska tell her? Why’d she help? Is she just waiting until you’re alone to knife you in the back?

After Karkat goes, rolling a strike (whatever that means?), Nepeta is distracted from her turn by a phone call and tells Tavros he can bowl her turn as well as his. She goes off to a quieter part of the alley to talk. A few minutes later, she comes running back, plucking her keys off the table. “Tavros, Terezi, would you be able to get a pride if I left now?” she asks, urgency in her voice.

“Uh, yeah, sure, um, I mean, I think Rufioh will be home by then?” says Tavros.

“I can do it if he’s not available!” Aradia pipes up. “Just because it’s out of the way, doesn’t mean I won’t.”

But Terezi pouts at her. “How can you be going already? We just started!”

“I know, I know, I’m so sorry!” Nepeta says, already changing her shoes back as quickly as possible. “But one of Meulin’s coworkers called in with a sick baby, and Meulin volunteered to cover her shift, so she needs the car ASAP! Plus, we really can’t leave Mom alone!”

“Go, go, go,” Karkat tells her, gesturing for her to hurry on. He takes her shoes from her. “I’ll take these back. Hurry on.”

“Thank you, Kar-Kitty!” Nepeta cheers. She pecks him on the top of the head then takes off running. That’s not a jealous twinge in your stomach. Nope. Not at all. As Karkat goes to return Nepeta's shoes, Terezi shouts after Nepeta to remind Meulin that overtime is a thing that the slaughterhouse is legally obligated to pay her.

Next turn, you stand up a little fast, apparently, because your world swims a little. “You feeling off?” Aradia asks, and you wave her off, mumbling you don’t even know what.

You’re not even at the line when you release the ball as the little kiddie ball suddenly feels too heavy.

“Hey, is that Vriska’s cousin at the－ What’s wrong with him?” asks Karkat.

“I don’t know, Karkat. I can’t see,” Terezi tells him. “Why don’t you tell me?”

“I’m fine guys,” you say. You stumble again on your way back to your seat and have to grab Tavros’s chair. That’s embarrassing, but you’re too tired to be embarrassed. You drop into your seat.

“Maybe it’s a blood sugar thing,” Aradia volunteers, getting up on her feet. “I’ll get you a soda.”

Terezi is blind-staring at you, but you don’t give a shit. You lean over and put your head between your knees, trying to make everything stop spinning.

Aradia comes back with ginormous Dr. Pepper, which is quite possibly the most disgusting choice she could make, but Karkat won’t take his turn until you take a drink. So you do, and start kicking at his ankles until he finally moves, giving you both middle fingers at an angle such that the children won’t see.

Before long, the caffeine and sugar kick in and you start to recover. Terezi is back to ignoring you in favor of teasing Karkat, and you needle Aradia about how talented she is at bowling. 

When it’s your turn again, you hand the drink over to Aradia, stand up, and immediately black out.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So6 my6 fkeyboard6 got6 wet...  
> is6 is6 seriously6 a6 pain6 in6 my6 ass.  
> New6 one6 is6 coming6 Thursday.

You wake up on the floor. Someone is messing with your feet?

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN EMERGENCY SERVICES ARE _BUSY_?!” Karkat is yelling.

You look around. Karkat’s on his phone with his back to you. You can’t see Aradia or Tavros. Someone is taking your shoes off. You look down to see Terezi as she works your socks off next, leaning a little too close with her nose bouncing like a bunny rabbit. “What the fuck?” you ask, though your barely-there exhausted mumble makes it more like “Whuhzuhfuh?”

Karkat spins toward you. “Dave!” he cries. Then, “Terezi, what the fuck are you doing?”

She lifts a shoe toward him. “What color is the powder on the inside?” she asks.

“Uh, blue?” says Karkat. “Why’s there powder on it?”

She hisses. “I should’ve known, when I smelled that scent coming only from Dave. When he first… Ugh, I’m such a moron.” She yanks your other sock off. You try to sit up and pull away from her, but everything immediately swims.

Karkat pushes you back down with his foot. “Stay down, idiot,” he snaps. “What is it that you should have known exactly?” he asks Terezi.

“Come over here and tell me the color of the soles of his feet,” she tells him.

He comes around but doesn’t give up. “Terezi, seriously, there’s fires all over downtown, so we don’t have ambulance priority. If you know something, you need to tell me.” He looks down. “Oh, um, blue probably isn’t good is it?”

“Aconite poisoning,” she tells him. “The Serket put aconite in his shoes. As he wore them and sweat and heat mixed with the powder, it absorbed through his socks and through his skin. We need to try to scrub as much off as possible. Go find a wet towel.” She motions sharply to dismiss him.

He scrambles off, and, desperately, you try to grab for him as he passes, but your depth perception must be off, because he's not actually remotely within reach, and all you end up doing is turning onto your side and vomiting profusely. “Gross,” says Terezi.

“Says girl foot sniffer,” you tell her. Wow, that was articulate. “Not… can’t be… alone… you.”

She hums thoughtfully. “Who told you that? Harley? Little Harley?”

“Need… where are…?”

“Management made everyone back away and give you space,” Terezi tells you. “Though I made sure Tavros called his brother, because, trust me, Rufioh’s gonna be hella more helpful than a doctor. I stayed with you to keep an eye on your condition, and Karkat’s too stubborn to leave.”

“Why help?”

Terezi frowns a little, but Karkat arrives back with damp paper towels from the bathroom, and, with mild complaining, the two set about trying to get the blue off your feet. You make one more attempt to sit up, but it goes about as well as grabbing for Karkat did. He leans over, takes his bookbag off the chair, and sets it on your chest to keep you down. 

“Why would Serkets want to poison him?” Karkat demands.

“Because they’re Serkets,” says Terezi, and Karkat is forced to admit that she has a point.

A few minutes later, you’re able to almost kind of sit up enough for Karkat to let you use his bookbag as a backrest, when Rufioh shoves his way past some employees, swearing at them in Greek and, after that failed, straight up picked up the smaller of them and physically moved him out of the way before hurrying toward you. He drops to his knees on the hardwood floor and slides next to you while already opening up the pack he’s carrying.

The employees hurry after him, but Terezi bursts to her feet, waving her cane at them, demands to know why they’re interfering instead of taking care of the customers, and threatens them all with lawsuits. She knows the legalese for it, too.

“What are you doing?” Karkat demands, which is good because you want to know that, too.

“Magic, shut up,” says Rufioh. He sets a small metal dish on your stomach. “Aconite, right?” he asks, searching his bag.

“Yeah, that’s what Terezi thinks,” Karkat says because Terezi’s still verbally abusing grown ass adults. “Powder in his shoes?”

Rufioh pauses. Blinks. Turns to Karkat. “Shoes?” he repeats.

Karkat lifts one of the bowling shoes to show him. “It’s dyed his feet, too.”

Rufioh leans over to look. “Well, that’s new.” He pulls out a jar of blue flowers and taps them out onto the dish.

Karkat scowls at him. “No offense, but I thought you were a drug dealer?” he says. “What exactly is your expertise in treating poison?”

Rufioh just laughs at that. “I’m an herbalist,” he says. “Some of those herbs just pay a lot better than others.”

Karkat’s scowl deepens. “Riiiight.”

Rufioh puts the jar away, lifts up the dish, pulls out a lighter, and sets the flowers on fire. They flash like gunpowder, which you’re pretty sure flowers shouldn’t do. You cough and turn away and the world goes spinny again. You really wish it would stop.

Rufioh shoves Karkat out of the way, telling him to go try calling emergency services again. Once Karkat’s not at your side, Rufioh takes up his spot by your feet. “How’re you doing, Dave?” he asks. He’s pulling out a pocket knife.

“Fk off,” you groan. You try to pull your feet away from him, but he pulls them back down. And then he slashes a cut across both soles, and you cry out in pain. Karkat says something, but Rufioh ignores him and starts smearing ash on the wounds. You’re sitting up and fussing for him to stop being weird at you before you realize that, hey, you’re sitting up and speaking relatively clearly. “Oh.”

Rufioh snorts in amusement. “Yeah. Oh,” he says. “Keep laying there a little while. It’s gonna take some time to work through your system. You probably won’t sleep well to－”

He stops, looking past you and up. You turn. Oh, hey, someone called Dirk.

Oh wait.

Rufioh shoves his things in his bag quickly. “Anyway, take care of yourself the next couple days and try to stay away from Serkets,” he says. He gets to his feet and pushes quickly past Dirk.

“Um, thanks,” Dirk mumbles quietly.

Apparently, Rufioh hears it. That smile is unbelievably venomous for someone known for their charm. “Please,” he says, “think nothing of it. Terezi, I’m giving you a ride home, aren’t I?”

She seems to debate for a second, but then she sighs and follows him out. She shakes her cane threateningly at the staff as the two of them pass by.

“What the fuck happened here?” Dirk demands, crouching next to you. He picks up your wrist and takes your pulse with his left hand while measuring your temperature with the back of his right hand to your forehead.

“Apparently, some Serket dude decided to poison him with aconite for some reason,” says Karkat.

Dirk’s shades light up briefly, and then, “Wolfsbane?” Karkat just shrugs, not seeing the importance of the name.

“And… Rufioh treated it?”

Again Karkat shrugs. “Apparently he’s some kind of herb doctor that just so happens to also be a drug dealer?”

“Right.” Dirk finally lets you go. “You ready to go yet?”

“Ung, give me a couple minutes?” you tell him. “What the fuck is this about fires downtown?”

Dirk looks away. Karkat watches him curiously. “What?” Karkat presses.

“They’re distractions,” Dirk mumbles. “Pretty mild, property damage aside. No one hurt except a shitload of smoke inhalation.”

“Distractions from what?” you ask, sitting up a bit more, and pulling your feet up.

He sighs heavily. “It _looks_ like Jade destroyed the Ampora body parts. Jake set fire to the evidence room. And digitalDigitalis, whoever that is, wiped out Roxy’s computers.”

“What?” you demand. “Why would they do that?”

“I don’t know, but we’re at square fucking one, and, worse, Jake has confessed to all the crimes.”


End file.
